Last week, we saw the brutal actions of our president unfold right before our eyes. Handing over a victory to a foe, only to gain a certain piece of dignity in his own thoughts. Just before we thought that we’d see the face of one of our heroes, we were driven off air. Who is the man behind the mask? Black Rain, a name that hides his true identity…This week on Liberation Television, will we finally find out who is behind the mask? And will the question be answered…who will Black Rain pick to face off against?

[ - L – I – V – E ]: We enter the inner sanctum of Viking Hall, the home of UWWF: Liberation and it’s rabid, unruly fans. Tonight, spectators are packed into the arena, no seat is empty on this night. The fans roar, as the camera view swoops by them quickly, making direct contact with the commentator’s booth located on the balcony. Zooming in, we come across our usual hosts of Liberation Television; Tony Lockton, the man that usually calls it right down the middle…and his associate, particularly not by choice, Cody “Mother Fuckin” Prime! The camera moves in, focusing in on the upper-half of both men. Tony Lockton adjusts his headset, before he opens his mouth to express his excitement!

T.L: Welcome, time and time again, to Liberation Television! I’m Tony Lockton…[pointing to Cody Prime]….and he’s…drunk…[trailing off]

C.P: No, fucker, just buzzed. There is a distinct fuckin’ difference between the two!

T.L: Either way, I doubt it’s going to be good for me…

C.P: Fuck yourself, jumbo! Far from spectacular, we have a bunch of fuckin’ lackluster matches for you!

T.L: Lackluster?! Hardly! Mario C.’s associates, Jazz and AWOL are going to take on the Van X BoyZ in a vicious – barbed-wire tables match!

C.P: [yawn] Yay…

T.L: Also, in our main event we have the Apocalypse of Wrestling’s own Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt against G-Man!

C.P: My money is on the Bonez-dawg! WHOO-WHOO!

T.L: G-Man is out for revenge tonight, after a deliberate and planned attack on Bonez with Black Rain last week.

C.P: Yeah, yeah…don’t fuckin’ forget the fact that Black Rain and G-Man jumped Bonez from behind a second time! That’s fuckin’ right, after tusslin’ with the big dog, Maddog in the back…those two fuck-sticks came back and throttled him again. Bitches…

T.L: Enough talk, let’s get to the ring for our first bout of the night. Exodus is set to go up against “Mr. Miraculous” Preston Terranova!

“Mr. Miraculous” Preston Terranova, accompanied by “Big” Lee Levec, waits inside the ring for his opponent. The lights tone down slightly, as a spotlight comes down across the entrance curtain. Seconds pass, as Exodus’ music starts up, without any sign of Exodus coming out to the ring yet. The fans turn their heads to the curtain, some chanting, ”BO-RING!” The curtain jerks violently, as Exodus is thrown out from behind and onto the foot of the ramp! The curtain violently flutters, as Nightmare comes out from behind the curtain to follow Exodus onto the beginning portion of the ramp! Exodus staggers to his feet, but Nightmare follows him – throwing repeated punches to any portion of Exodus’ head that he can connect with. Nightmare grabs onto Exodus’ shoulder and forces him to turn around!

T.L: What’s going on here?!

C.P: It’s kinda obvious, don’t ya think? I mean…come on…shit…

Nightmare winds his arm back, catching Exodus across the bottom lip with a closed right! Exodus staggers backward, but Nightmare keeps advancing toward him. Exodus throws a jab, blocked by Nightmare! In a brief second, Nightmare grabs Exodus by the hair and quickly slams the top of his head against the guardrail! The rail shifts, as Exodus falls flat across the floor, only to have Nightmare leave him to lay beaten on the floor. Inside the ring, “Mr. Miraculous” Preston Terranova jumps on the ropes, throwing his arms up in rage and yelling out. ”What the hell, man?!”, Terranova’s voice bursts out, as Exodus pulls himself up with use of the railing. Seeing the attack on Exodus, the referee calls the match a “no contest”, knowing Exodus would be in no condition to continue on with an even contest with Terranova.

C.P: Seriously, Lockton, I don’t care…at all.

T.L: Anyway, those two men will meet live on pay per view for the Street Fight Championship, if Nightmare retains the belt against Johnny Psycho.

C.P: That shit is up next, bitches! Enjoy this shit right here, ‘cause we got some barb-fuckin-wire!

T.L: Is that the only thing you care about?

C.P: Nah, Ton, I also enjoy seein’ some fuckin’ blood. That’s the truth, man, I ain’t goin’ lie to ya’ll!

A short clip of recent clashes between Exodus and Nightmare is shown, before we fade back to the ring. Inside the ring, the referee points out the two barbed-wire laced plywood boards that are leaning in opposite turnbuckles, available for either man to use in the contest. Nightmare is leaning against the unoccupied turnbuckle, as the referee shows the silver-plated championship to Johnny Psycho in center ring. The referee hands off the belt to the timekeeper through the ropes, then calls for the bell. With the sounding off the bell, the contest is about to begin.

Nightmare glares across the ring at his opponent, as he steps out from the turnbuckle. The two near each other in a quick fashion, with Johnny Psycho throwing a quick right. His knuckles swipe Nightmare across the chin, forcing him to take a step back. Psycho grabs Nightmare by the arm and pulls back with an irish-whip. Nightmare takes it to the ropes, coming back with full force behind his steps. Psycho leans forward to make an attempt at a hip-toss, but Nightmare dives forward with a vicious, not to mention calculated closeline!

T.L: That darn near took Johnny Psycho’s head off!

C.P: Too bad it didn’t, eh?

Nightmare leans over, grabbing Psycho by the head to lead him back up to his feet. Nightmare pulls Psycho in by grabbing the back of his head, thrusting his forearm to the side of Johnny’s head! Johnny’s head whips back, but Nightmare stuns him with a quick boot to the midsection. Psycho leans over to grab his gut, only to meet a knee square in the kisser care of Nightmare. Psycho falls flat across his back to the canvas with Nightmare still lurking over him. Nightmare makes his way across the ring, paying no attention to his downed opponent, soon reaching the turnbuckle. Leaning over, Nightmare picks up the barbed-wire board from the corner and heads back over to Johnny Psycho , who is on his hands and knees. Nightmare lifts the board into the air, swinging the barbed-wire side downward, clashing it directly across the middle of his spine. Psycho falls flat against the canvas, as Nightmare flips the board to the mat. Nightmare lifts his leg, stomping the bottom of his boot down across Psycho’s head.

T.L: He’s vicious tonight, Cody, purely vicious.

At this point, Nightmare has Psycho back on his feet and bent over. Grasping Psycho around the waist, Nightmare flips him into the air and drops himself back. Nightmare connects with a gut-wrench suplex onto the board! The wire rattles, giving Nightmare a chance to make a cover with Psycho still flat on his back across the board. Nightmare covers, ONE……..TWO…….KICK OUT! Nightmare has Johnny Psycho back on his feet, readying him to be thrashed by a winding forearm. Johnny Psycho pulls away, grabbing Nightmare by the head…fist flying, Psycho manages to stun Nightmare! Psycho grabs Nightmare by the arm and quickly sends him into the ropes. Nightmare comes back off the ropes and meets a dropkick to the chest! Nightmare goes down, but pops back up into a sitting position. Psycho goes around back, hooking Nightmare with a sleeperhold, which doesn’t seem to be holding Nightmare down in the slightest. Fighting back up to his feet, Nightmare turns to the side and swings an elbow into Psycho’s stomach! Psycho releases his hold, giving Nightmare enough time to give him a stiff kick to the gut, followed by a vicious ddt.

T.L: Psycho is having a hard time fending off Nightmare, folks.

C.P: Especially since Nightmare has got that barbed-wire fucking board again! Hah!

Nightmare pulls the barbed-wire board into the center of the ring, slamming it down into place across the “Liberation” logo printed on the canvas. Johnny Psycho starts to his feet, staggering toward Nightmare – as he wipes the blood from his forehead with the sweat drenched palm of his hand. As he approaches, Nightmare jabs him in the stomach with the tip of his boot, doubling him over immediately. Nightmare grabs Psycho by the back of the head, dropping an elbow across the middle of his neck! Psycho almost falls to his knees, but Nightmare uses his grip to pull Johnny Psycho back up to a full standing position. Nightmare grabs the arm, pulling Psycho in with a short-arm, followed by a knee to the stomach. Psycho doubles over, clutching at his stomach! Nightmare leans over to reach into his boot, pulling out a fairly small container. Flipping the top off the slim container, Nightmare splashes a clear liquid across the barbed-wire laden board.

T.L: Nightmare just poured some kind of liquid across that barbed-wire board, folks. I’m not sure what it is, but I am sure that it’s leading nowhere good!

Nightmare kicks Psycho in the stomach to further subdue him, as he continues on with his process. He goes to the boot again, this time pulling out what looks to be a box of matches (a small box)! Opening the small box of matches, Nightmare ignites a single wooden match and drops it down onto the board. As the match drops into the center of the board, fire ignites instantly, bursting up to a wicked smile from Nightmare. Quickly, Nightmare thrusts the tip of his elbow across Johnny Psycho’s shoulder. Johnny Psycho still hunched over, leaves himself open, only to be lifted up into the air from a gut-wrench from Nightmare! Nightmare swings him into the air, as Psycho’s arms fly upward with a certain limpness. Nightmare uses all of his might to bring Johnny Psycho back down, neck-drop powerbombing him directly across the flaming barbed-wire that is fastened to the board! The wire rattles under the impact, as Psycho is folded in half across the board. “HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!”, the rowdy crowd emits from their vocals chords in unison. As Psycho’s body folds in half, the flames are put out almost immediately. Nightmare steps around the side of Psycho, grabbing him by the leg and pulling him back, flipping him onto his stomach. Nightmare rolls Psycho over, knowing that the barbed-wire strands are still attached to Psycho’s backside. Nightmare with a lateral press, ONE……..TWO……..THREE!

After the referee raises Nightmare’s arm in victory, he exits the ring without any thought of Nightmare’s further actions. Nightmare peels Johnny Psycho away from the barbed-wire, keeping him on his hands and knees. Nightmare reaches down by his feet, picking up the container once again, checking it’s contents wisely. His crooked smile grows, as slings the container downward, splashing the liquid onto Psycho’s back!

T.L: He couldn’t…he wouldn’t….he’s going to try and light Johnny Psycho on fire!

C.P: Take a look down the ramp, Ton…

T.L: Exodus is out here! Running to the ring, he may make it in time to save Johnny Psycho, THANK GOD!

Exodus takes a dive, sliding under the bottom rope and into the ring. Nightmare grabs a match, slowly starting to run it along the jagged strip on the side of the box. The match flares up, but Nightmare’s intentions are foiled in a quick fashion! From behind, Exodus rattles Nightmare with a short-closeline, not forceful enough to knock him to the mat. Exodus turns Nightmare around and belts him across the teeth with a closed right! Nightmare shakes it off and immediately kicks him in the gut. Nightmare follows up the kick with a wound-back right hand to the side of Exodus’ head! Nightmare blasts Exodus with several punches, before he quickly leans over and picks up the barbed-wire board off the mat. Lifting the board above his head, Nightmare swats it down across Exodus’ head! THUD! Exodus hits the canvas hard, while Nightmare swings the board back into the air. Exodus has no way to block the next blow with the board from Nightmare! The board slams down across Exodus’ shoulder, where Nightmare rests it. Moving his hands away from the board, Nightmare stands up and lifts his leg upward. Nightmare drops the bottom of his boot across the board, smashing Exodus underneath it with heavy force! Nightmare flips the board over and he stands back up, tilting his head back. His arms spread out and he remains standing in a crucifix position, while his laughter can be heard through the shock of the crowd.

C.P: Fuck that bullshit! He kicked Johnny Psycho’s ass and again…he kicked Exodus’ ass! How many more bitches does he have to slap before you get the fuckin’ picture!

T.L: Well, I don’t know what to say to that comment, Cody. I’m just excited for our next match! Finally, we get to see the Van X BoyZ together in action again! I’m glad to see them back where they belong, here in the UWWF!

C.P: For the fuckin’ records, as far as tag-teams go…the Van X BoyZ talk about being the best UWWF tag-team ever…Ahem, Final Judgment comes to mind! Fuck that, The Perveyors of Perfection, that’s where it’s at, bro!

The crowd chatters with excitement, as the curtain shudders slightly. Seconds later, the leader of a faction pushes his way through the curtain, literally. Dawning a wheel-chair, Mario C. rolls out from behind the curtain, with the Boyz following at each side of the chair. Mario C. rolls down the entrance ramp, leading his Boyz to the ring with defiance still in his face and his yells of encouragement to his comrades. The scene flashes to a clip-set of the Van X BoyZ, showing their defiance in the UWWF a few years ago. When the clips cease, the Van X BoyZ are already in the ring, inciting a vicious roar from the fans!

Sean and Chris Van X stand near the turnbuckle, talking over the game plan for their encounter with Mario C.’s cronies. As the bell tolls, Jazz and AWOL come barreling across the ring toward the Van X brothers! Noticing the two big men coming at them, they turn to be met by the flailing fists of the two men. The brawl begins right there and then, with the four men exchanging rights and lefts! AWOL grabs Chris Van X by the head, throttling him with a few rights, then lobbing him into the turnbuckle. AWOL reaches back to catch Chris again, but meets a kick to the midsection! Chris turns AWOL around and forces him into the buckle, meeting him with a few blows of his own! Jazz seems to have the upper hand with Sean, whipping him into the ropes with authority. Jazz plants his feet and readies himself to closeline his foe in Sean Van X, but as Sean comes off the ropes – he seems quite hesitant with his stance. Jazz takes an early swing for the closeline, giving Sean Van X just enough time to avoid it and connect with a huge spin-wheel kick! Jazz hits the canvas, as Sean Van X quickly gets back to his feet.

T.L: The Van X BoyZ are going to town, folks!

In the turnbuckle, Chris gives AWOL a stiff kick to the midsection, then peels him away from the turnbuckle. Grabbing AWOL by the back of the neck and the back of the tights, he lobs him through the middle ropes to the outside! Chris follows AWOL to the outside, as his brother connects with a snap leg-drop across Jazz’s throat. On the outside, Chris grabs AWOL by the back of the head, forcing him toward one of the barbed-wire wrapped tables that occupies the ringside area. With a side knee to the ribs, Chris follows up by slamming AWOL head first into the top of the barbed-wire table!

C.P: That’s what I’m talkin’ about, motha fucka!

Chris proceeds in raking AWOL’s face across the barbed-wire to a pleased reaction from the front row of fans that are sitting nearly three feet away. Chris pulls AWOL’s head back and thuds his forehead off the table one more time, just for good measure! Sean Van X has Jazz upright inside the ring, following up with a whip into the turnbuckle. Sean comes at him with full force, jumping into the air and driving his legs into Jazz’s stomach with a dropkick. Jazz falls forward, almost landing on top of Van X. Sean forges back to his feet, hooking Jazz in a side-headlock then proceeds with a running bulldog to the mat. On the outside, Chris Van X grabs AWOL and flips him over onto the table, holding him there with several vicious rights. He goes around the side of the table, picking up a steel chair and folding it up in a speedy fashion. He swings the chair upward, THUD! He sends it down across AWOL’s chest with authority, then placing the chair over his chest. Inside the ring, Sean Van X sees his brother positioning AWOL on the table, which brings him to a full sprint to the far side of the ropes. He comes off the ropes with full speed, running right in their direction. He reaches the ropes, planting his hands on the top rope, springing himself over with a somersault (reference: RVD vs. Lance Storm at ECW’s “Barely Legal” ppv)! Sean Van X soars through the air and crashes down across AWOL on the table with full force! CRACK! The table collapses, breaking in half with the barbed-wire springing left and right. Chris tries to help his brother up, untangling him from the loose strands of barbed-wire, while AWOL sits a broken heap close to the front row of the true Liberation fans!

C.P: Fuck, he just broke that fucker!

T.L: Nice choice of wording, Cody…niiice….

Chris leads his brother over to the apron, then makes his way over to one of the many barbed-wire laced tables around the ringside area. Sean Van X rolls himself onto the apron, laying on his back for several seconds before trying to get up. Meanwhile, Chris slides the table under the bottom rope into the ring, where Jazz is waiting. Slightly injured, Jazz reaches through the ropes and grabs Chris by the head and pulls him up onto the apron. Jazz violently pulls Chris into the ring, landing several forearm blows to the back of Chris’ neck. From there, Jazz sends Chris across the ring with an irish-whip, hoping to hit a high impact blow on him. Chris comes back off he ropes, ducking a closeline, and quickly returning off the ropes. Jazz turns around and Chris lands a closeline of his own, blasting his forearm across Jazz’s chin! Jazz hits the canvas and Van X stands over him with victory set in his eyes. Chris leans over and picks up his opponent off the mat, giving him a stiff kick to the midsection, thrusting him into the ropes. Jazz exhaustedly holds himself up with use of the ropes, breathing heavily at this point. The camera pans over to Sean, who is now on his feet, standing in wait near the turnbuckle. Chris in the meanwhile, picks up the table and unfolds the legs, setting the table up nearby. Jazz staggers away from the ropes and Chris turns his body, jumping low in a quick motion. From the jump, Chris dropkicks Jazz with both legs, hitting him in the shins. Jazz falls to his knees, while Chris scrambles back up to his feet. Chris leans over Jazz, pulling him up to a bent over position. Chris Van X wraps his arms around Jazz’s waist and proceeds to lift him into the air, staggering back a few feet. On the outside Mario C. yells from his wheel chair, screaming for his team to come back to their senses. Chris stumbles toward the ropes, but comes back with several steps, looking toward his brother, who is still near the turnbuckle. Before he sends Jazz plummeting into the table, he quickly turns and drops him across the canvas with one hell of a powerbomb! Jazz folds in half upon impact, but Chris immediately grabs his leg and flips him over onto his stomach. Leaning over, Chris Van X brutally rips Jazz off the mat and wings him across the table.

T.L: They could have easily won the contest right here…what do they have planned?

C.P: I have no fucking clue…no fucking clue at all.

Chris Van X sees his brother climbing the far turnbuckle, nearly halfway across the ring! Chris slams his knuckles across Jazz’s forehead one last time, before he slings him across the barbed-wire wrapped table. Holding him in place, he watches his brother spring up off the top of the turnbuckle with high velocity. Sean Van X soars across the ring with quickness, Chris seeing this immediately backs away from the table. Sean pumps into the frog splash, coming straight down from the air and down across Jazz’s chest! CRASH! Sean Van X successfully helps take home the win, after tearing the table into two pieces with Jazz’s body! The bell sounds, as Chris grabs onto his brother and pulls him to his feet. The camera man on the apron gets a rude awakening, as Sean and Chris Van X approach him. The two yell loudly at the camera man, warning the current tag-team champions that they are on their way to reclaim the belts they once wore here in the UWWF! Mario C. wheels himself around the side of the ring, yelling obscenities at the two brothers, pointing his finger at them with anger. Sean Van X goes to the turnbuckle, jumping up onto the middle rope, pointing at Mario C. then putting his hands by his waist with an action saying, “Those belts are ours!”. Mario C. looks up at him and yells once again, but to his surprised reaction, Sean Van X leaps from the turnbuckle with a splash. Mario C. quickly puts his hands on the wheelchair in an attempt to get away, but Sean Van X comes down far quicker than he had thought! Sean Van X’s body comes crashing down across Mario C., flipping the wheel chair over with Sean Van X’s weight falling directly onto him. Sean Van X staggers to his feet, grabbing at his knee slightly with one arm and the other held high in the air. Chris Van X jumps on the turnbuckle and raises his arms in the air to show victory for the Van X BoyZ as a whole.

C.P: Hands down, they won’t stand a fuckin’ chance against Clarkson and Bonez at the pay per view!

T.L: Well, the brothers Van X will beg to differ with you on that one.

C.P: I don’t gives a fuuuuck!

T.L: A heated feud is continued in our next bout, Cody. Synge, now shown to be Acid is going up against Mario C.’s associate, Cyrus. The National Champion has a chance to show us all, if he is ready to meet Sean Van X at the pay per view.

C.P: He better be ready, ‘cause Sean Van X is a fuckin’ force!

T.L: I thought you didn’t like him? I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again!

C.P: Shadd-up!

Various clips of Cyrus and Acid are shown on the screen, followed by a few no so kind words exchanged toward each other by each man. We come back to the ring, where the two are already inside the ring, glaring at each other with hatred deep in their eyes. This feud may end here, but it’s unlikely.

The bell sounds: The two men collide in center ring, exchanging punches in a back and forth motion. Blow after blow, each man takes a hit and returns a far more aggressive retaliation. Almost synchronized in nature the two wildly thrash arms at one another. Acid looses step and Cyrus blasts him with two straight stinging rights to the jaw. Acid staggers back, giving Cyrus enough room to move in and rattle him with a small, but effective closeline. Cyrus pulls Acid off the mat and drags him to the buckle, throwing Acid back first against the post. Cyrus grabs onto the ropes with both hands, using heavy force to drive his knee into Acid’s stomach, repeatedly. Acid slouches over, Cyrus has made a dent in Acid’s “armor” so to say, giving him ample opportunity to take over the contest. Cyrus back steps, hooking Acid around the neck with a front face-lock. Cyrus drops back and kicks his legs out, dropping Acid’s head across the mat with a vicious d-d-t! Cyrus rolls Acid onto his back, preparing for the lateral press. ONE……..TWO…. The referee notices that Acid has now pulled his left shoulder off the mat, but Cyrus didn’t notice. The referee stops and holds up his two fingers and yells to the crowd, ”TWO COUNT!” Cyrus stands up immediately, arguing with the referee’s decision. This argument gives Acid a chance to slowly get back up to his feet, but Cyrus still has him in his sights. Acid gets to his feet and dives forward at Cyrus’ legs in an attempt to drive him to the mat with a double leg takedown! Cyrus sprawls his legs back and hooks Acid around the neck with a front chancery, dropping back into a variation of a guillotine choke. Cyrus wraps his legs around Acid’s body, to force the air right out of Acid. Being fair, the referee checks in on the hold, seeing that indeed Cyrus is choking the life right out of Acid. The referee sees this move as illegal in a normal contest, forcing Cyrus to release it.

C.P: What the fuck?

Cyrus angered by the decision, pulls Acid up to his feet and the two make their way over to the ropes. Cyrus showing his anger drags Acid through the ropes with him onto the apron, then pulling him to the floor. On the outside, Cyrus grabs Acid by the arm and whips him into the steel ring post! Acid’s shoulder connects with the post and he drops down to his knees, showing a slight form of fatigue. Cyrus nears the railing to pick up a steel chair and he manages to fold it up. He makes his way back over to Acid and slams the chair over the top of his head, THUD!

C.P: Okay, this mother fucker right here can use a steel chair right? Yet, he can’t fucking use a clean submission? Bullshit, yo, bullshit.

T.L: On the outside, anything goes, Cody.

The referee watches on, as Cyrus brings Acid back into the ring. Acid lays stomach first on the mat, while Cyrus reenters the ring. Cyrus drops a few stomps across Acid’s back, giving him fair warning that his wraith his far from over. Cyrus lets Acid get back up on his own free will, only to slather him with several blows to the side of the head upon Acid getting up. Acid staggers to the side, stopping in the turnbuckle, and turning around. Cyrus rushes at him in the buckle, landing a knee flush with Acid’s stomach, forcing him to hunch over. Cyrus grabs Acid by the arm and sends him running across the ring toward the far buckle. THUD! Acid’s spine connects with the turnbuckle, nearly taking all of his air away with the blow, sending him limping forward. Cyrus moves in, as Acid staggers in his direction. Acid almost topples forward, but Cyrus catches him by the throat with one hand!

C.P: What a move…..yeah…..fuckin’…right…

T.L: Acid has taken quite a beating folks…

Cyrus grabs Acid by the throat, gripping his fingers tightly across his windpipe. Acid shows little struggle, as his face starts to show is manner of fatigue. Acid pulls back, but not quick enough to avoid Cyrus lifting him into the air! Quickly Cyrus drops Acid from the choke-slam position, turning his back toward Acid…

T.L: He’s looking to finish this right here, Cody!

C.P: Fucking great…just fucking great.

Acid is forced down across Cyrus’ shoulder with a stunner, completing the “Virus”! Acid’s throat hits the top of Cyrus’ shoulder, forcing him to pop upward and drop straight to his back! Cyrus gets to his feet, seeing the likes of Acid laying across the canvas, down and out!

T.L: Look over there! It’s the Van X BoyZ!

C.P: What the fuck are they doing here?

Chris Van X runs to the ring and jumps on the apron, distracting the referee from Sean Van X on the opposite side of the ring. Cyrus has Acid pinned with both shoulder across the canvas, until he notices Sean Van X using the ropes as a springboard and coming right at him! Springing off the ropes, Sean Van X positions his body with full stealth form, pushing his legs out – seemingly a human bullet! Cyrus jumps to his feet, only to be caught with a missile-like dropkick to the chest! Cyrus hits the mat, but Sean Van X keeps coming at him. Van X leans over and grabs Cyrus by the head, flipping him onto his stomach then pulling him up to a standing position. With a kick to the midsection, Sean hooks him by the head and grabs the tights, elevating him into the air. With a quick movement, Sean Van X drives Cyrus to the canvas with a brain-buster! Van X quickly gets up and grabs hold of Acid, then slings him over Cyrus’ chest! Sean runs at the ropes, sliding below the bottom turnbuckle, making his way around the outside of the ring toward the entrance ramp. Chris Van X jumps off the apron and the referee finally turns around to see the pin by Acid! The referee dives down, not knowing of the actions that were just played out, ONE……TWO……..THREE!”

C.P: Shit, Cyrus win this match? NE-VER. Sean Van X was just giving Cyrus a little preview of what will happen when they meet inside the ring. A little bitch slap from Van X, hah!

T.L: Alright, folks, I won’t dance around the subject of our next bout. These two men despise each other…these two men, HATE each other with a passion.

C.P: G-Man ain’t shit compared to Bonez, Lockton, you know this man!

T.L: Back to the subject…tonight, Bonez and G-Man will meet face to face, man to man. It’s very unlikely that the Apocalypse will show their faces in this match, since news has it that Clarkson and Denison are confirmed to not be in the building tonight.

C.P: Of course, they ain’t here. Otherwise, they’d already be putting the final nails in G-Man’s casket and sending him off to the morgue!

T.L: Folks, prepare for a heated battle between two superb masters of the mat. My thoughts on this bout, I’m sure there won’t be too much wrestling. Considering, G-Man and Bonez hate each other and they will do anything possible to inflict damage upon each other.

C.P: If it fuckin’ comes down to it, Bonez will box the shit right outta G-Man!

T.L: For surely, this will be an all-out battle…possibly reduced to a tooth and nail struggle, or a straight fist fight. If it’s not nailed down, these two will probably use it! I can’t even begin to explain how big this match is, folks.

C.P: You got that right, bitch. This match is big..huge…like fuckin’ King Kong and Godzilla, fuckin’ massive! Bonez is going to thrash that fucker around this fuckin’ arena!

The cameras cut to the parking lot, where the brawl has already begun! The two men exchange quick, yet very stiff punches. Back and forth, the fight goes, until G-Man cracks Schmitt in the nose! Bonez staggers backward and G-Man comes at him, grabbing him by the back of the head. From there, G-Man forces Bonez to smash head first against the hood of a parked car that once stood nearby. G-Man picks Bonez up off the car, slamming his chest across the hood, following up with several blows to the back of the head. G-Man flips Bonez over and winds up with his right arm, coming down with force…Bonez rolls off the hood of the car just in time to avoid the blow from G-Man, who nails his fist off the hood – putting a fist sized dent inches deep into the hood. Bonez starts crawling away, but G-Man’s anger filled actions bring him in with a boot to Bonez’s ribcage! Bonez rolls onto his back, grabbing at his ribs with a wince of pain on his face. G-Man rushes forward, taking a small leap, then driving his elbow down across Bonez’s chest with mustered force. The referee comes in close to count the pinfall, but G-Man won’t let Bonez off that lightly. G-Man pulls Bonez up by the head, rifling him across the chin with several stinging punches to the jaw! Finally, G-Man has Bonez back up to his feet and he tries to whip him straight into a chain-link fence but Bonez slips in a puddle and bangs his knee off the pavement. G-Man slowly walks over to his downed opponent, giving him a kick to the side before bringing him back up to his feet. Again, G-Man grabs Bonez by the arm and whips him toward the fence….CHING! Bonez hits his back off the chain-link fence with such force that it brings him forward, falling down to his knees. G-Man leans over to pick Bonez up off the ground, but Bonez manages to hit G-Man with a stealthy low-blow! G-Man staggers backward, as Bonez gets back up to his feet. With a full force charge, Bonez comes right at G-Man. G-Man steps to the side slightly as Bonez approaches, catches Bonez with a highly unexpected hip-toss onto the hood of a car, bouncing Bonez right across the windshield. The glass of the windshield cracks in a spider-webbed design, showing the force of Bonez’s impact on the hood and windshield. G-Man climbs onto the hood and covers Bonez right there and then, ONE………TWO…., G-Man pulls Bonez’s shoulders up off the hood! G-Man clutches Bonez’s head in his left hand, while he pummels him with right hand after right hand! G-Man has Bonez back up, but he doesn’t want to fight on the hood of the car any longer, so he pushes Bonez from behind, flinging him to the ground. Bonez hits the ground and rolls slightly, getting to his hands and knees. Starting to crawl away at a slow pace, Bonez attempts to get away from the likes of G-Man. G-Man watches on as Bonez tries to escape, giving us a small smile from the likes of G-Man. Now Bonez has made it back up to his feet, stumbling toward the back entrance of Viking Hall! He grabs hold of the handle and struggles to pull on the handle, which brings G-Man to a full boar sprint. From behind, G-Man rattles Bonez across the heavy steel door! From there, G-Man hooks his arm around the back of Bonez’s neck, swinging him to the pavement with a side Russian leg-sweep! G-Man slowly gets back up to his feet after feeling a small sting from his maneuver. From there, G-Man grabs Bonez by the shirt and the head, sliding him to the left of the doorframe. G-Man swings the door open with his right hand, grabbing Bonez and pulling his body halfway through the door. G-Man steps over Bonez, coming back into the parking lot. G-Man swings the door back, measuring Bonez for an apparent, yet deadly blow.

T.L: Don’t do it, G-Man, don’t do it!

C.P: Wait, you fuckin’ like this guy though…wouldn’t you want him to?

G-Man flings the door shut across Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt’s ribs, THUD! You can almost see the wind being knocked right out of him, as the door blasts him across the side of the chest. Bonez falls flat on his stomach, struggling to catch at least one gulp of fresh air. G-Man grabs the door with one hand, thrusting it open. He leans down and grabs Bonez by the head, pulling him through the door and into the building!

C.P: C’mon, Bonez! He’s making you look like a bitch!

T.L: G-Man and Bonez are now…in the building!

G-Man drags Bonez down a hallway, thudding him across the wall several times along the way. G-Man tries to throw Bonez onto a nearby table, but Bonez stops himself with his hands! Bonez thrusts his leg back, MULE KICK! He turns around and blasts G-Man with a few punches, then grabs him by the back of the head and throws him on top of the table! G-Man reaches his arms upward, grabbing hold of a small metal tray, knocking it’s contents to the floor. Bonez leans forward and grabs for G-Man’s throat, but meets the tray upside the head, WHACK! Bonez backs up, giving G-Man enough time to sit up. Bonez staggers back, but he’s still close enough for G-Man to swing again, WHACK! Bonez staggers to the side, falling against the side wall of the hallway! G-Man tosses the heavily dented tray to the floor, getting off the table to go at Bonez one more time. G-Man comes at Bonez, hooking him in a side headlock, thrusting a few punches to the side of his forehead. From here, G-Man drags Bonez down the corridor toward the entrance curtain. Bonez pulls away, taking a swing at G-Man…NO! G-Man catches the punch with the side of his forearm, nailing Bonez in the lip with a headbutt. G-Man grabs Bonez by the sides of the head, leading him to a table full of technical equipment. Two crew members scatter away from the table, just as G-Man plunges Bonez across the table, knocking down several monitors and various other devices. The camera cuts out for a few seconds, bringing us back to the inside of the area.

The camera cuts to the inside of the arena, seeing the likes of a known UWWF superstar sitting among the fans. Wearing a jacket, hat, and a pair of ordinary blue jeans, the camera zooms in on – none other than, Jeremy “Repent” Clarkson

T.L: Clarkson is here! Clarkson is in Viking Hall, folks!

C.P: That’s fuckin’ right! Fuck, it’s great to see him!

Clarkson shows no emotion, while the monitors come back to full vision showing the action unfolding in the backstage area. The table of equipment is flipped over and various articles are strewn at least six to seven feet away from the scuffle. G-Man drags Bonez along with him, bringing the brawl toward the curtain. G-Man bashes Bonez with a stiff right, stunning him slightly with the blow. At that very second, G-Man grabs Bonez by the head, forcing him into a side headlock. G-Man leads Bonez through the curtain with a loud roar emitting from the fans upon their entrance into the arena! G-Man pushes Bonez forward, forcing him to fall and roll along the floor.

T.L: Viking Hall is going crazy, Cody. This brawl has escalated into the arena!

C.P: Bonez….come on! Fight back! Fight fucking back, man!

G-Man manages to pummel Bonez all the way down the aisle, with a few short stops for G-Man to throw shots in Bonez’s face to a great crowd reaction. A fan reaches out a beer to G-Man, who quickly grabs it away from the fan. Bonez staggers forward, but G-Man turns him around and smashes the beer in his face, sending a shower of beer in Bonez’s face and not to mention the crowd as well. The two make their way around the ringside area, where G-Man leans Bonez up against the apron, stunning him with a kick to the gut and a right hook to the jaw. He manages to find a steel chair, holding it in the air to bring on a animalistic roar from the fans. G-Man folds the chair up and swings it ferociously into to the air, THUD! G-Man knocks Bonez down to one knee…CRACK! The chair thuds across Bonez’s head again, this time he drops his head down to the floor. G-Man turns his head toward the ring, throwing the steel chair over the top rope, before he tries to pick Schmitt up off the floor. Bonez goes along with G-Man, who throws him under the bottom rope into the ring.

T.L: This doesn’t look good for Bonez!

C.P: Ok, G-Man has backed him into a fucking corner…so fucking what? This is Bonez’s chance to end G-Man’s career!

Inside the ring, Bonez pulls himself up by use of the ropes. G-Man steps through the middle rope and advances on Bonez. G-Man attempts to closeline Bonez, but Bonez dives forward with a shoulder to G-Man’s midsection!

C.P: See! I fuckin’ told you, Lockton!

Bonez grabs G-Man by the head and stands up quickly, swinging his arm back. Bonez winds up and swings his arm connecting with a vicious forearm to the side of G-Man’s head, then he turns to the ropes and runs toward them. Springing off the ropes, Bonez rushes at G-Man, hoping to level with him some sort of blow. He comes in close swinging his arm forward, but meeting with nothing but air! G-Man ducked the closeline, pushing forward at Bonez…G-Man lifts Bonez up into the air from the momentum, sending him into the air with force. Bonez falls flat across his stomach from at least six feet in the air from the elevated from G-Man, which may have given G-Man the full advantage of the contest. G-Man slowly, but surely makes his way over to the steel chair that he had tossed over the top rope earlier in the bout. He brings the steel chair over to the downed Bonez, near the center of the ring. G-Man points the chair at Bonez, but only slams it down across the canvas. Bonez pushes himself up to his hands and knees, but G-Man grabs him by the arm and drags him to his feet. G-Man holds onto the arm and forces him right into a knee to the gut. Bonez blows spit across the canvas, gagging from the blow! From here, G-Man bends Bonez over, hooking him by the waist and he spins around, planting his feet at the edge of the steel chair. The crowd begins cheering as G-Man yells, ”It’s over, Bonez! Payback is mine!”

T.L: It’s over, Cody! Bonez will meet his fate right now!

C.P: No! Bonez still has a chance, mother fucker! Fuck, Bonez, you better block this…

G-Man forces Bonez’s body into the air, holding his legs into the air for a few seconds to let him think about it. Looking down at the steel chair, G-Man slightly jumps into the air! Forceful in nature, G-Man pulls down on Schmitt’s body, driving him down across the steel chair with authority. THUD! G-Man leans back and let’s Bonez flip over his legs and to the side, flopping lifelessly across the mat. G-Man makes the cover with a hook of the leg, ONE……..TWO……THREE! G-Man

C.P: NO FUCKING WAY!

T.L: G-Man has done it, he put Bonez to shame!

The camera pans over to the entrance ramp, where a woman quickly rushes out followed by the likes of a very large man, who is wearing a hockey mask.

C.P: Holy shit, he’s fucking back!

T.L: “The Juggernaut” Mr. E is stomping his way down to the ring accompanied by..[looking at a paper on the desk]….”The Painted Princess of Hell” Jestina!? I hope that I got that one right.

Backstage: President Maddog watches a monitor from behind the curtain with a look of amazement on his face. Seeing the likes of Mr. E and the woman that had accompanied him down the aisle. Maddog mutters, ”What the fuck is he doing here? Clarkson ain’t out there, so what the fuck is he here for?” The camera cuts away from Maddog, coming back down to the ring quickly to see the action unfolding.

Jestina’s voice is muffled by the roaring fans, as she instructs Mr. E to hit the ring with full force. Mr. E leans over the apron to grab the middle rope with both hands, pulling his seven foot plus frame onto the apron of the ring. Standing on the apron, Mr. E pulls the top rope down, stepping over the top rope and planting both feet on the mat. G-Man doesn’t notice the big man behind him, as he rushes backward to bounce off the ropes. G-Man runs, with his body still facing in a sideways position, nearing just feet away from the hockey mask-clad monster.

C.P: This don’t look good for that soiled tampon, G-Man!

G-Man reaches a close proximity to Mr. E, who lunges forward with a swift swipe of his monstrous arm! Mr. E reaches out with his hand, grabbing G-Man by the head with a stern grip, which seems that Mr. E’s hand covers G-Man’s entire head! Mr. E’s crushing grip comes to an end, when he swings his leg behind G-Mans. From there, Mr. E trips G-Man backward, slamming the back of his cranium across the canvas with full force. The canvas rattles upon G-Man’s forceful meeting with it, as he lay on his back with his legs still up in the air. Bonez pushes himself up to a standing position, getting enough energy to rise to his feet. Noticing that G-Man had just been obliterated by the likes of Mr. E, Bonez quickly stumbles in Mr. E’s direction. Bonez comes in close, registering several jabs to Mr. E’s chest and stomach. The blows push Mr. E’s upper-body back for only seconds, before he comes back to his original stance. Surprised by the fact that his blows had not done a good damn thing to Mr. E, Bonez looks up and raises his fists. Swing, THUD! Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt’s hand hits the mask, only jolting Mr. E’s head slightly. Mr. E’s anger rises up, as Jestina’s voice hits his eardrums, showing her tight grip of control over him. Mr. E steps forward, thudding his giant fist across Schmitt’s face, which turns him to the side – staggering backward. Mr. E steps forward again with a thunderous boot to Bonez’s ribcage, the blow nearly lifts Bonez up off the canvas. Mr. E swiftly raises both of his massive arms into the air, thudding them down across the shoulder blade of Bonez! Bonez drops to his knees, his face revealing the extent of the stinging pain that shudders through his left shoulder.

T.L: Mr. E’s arms having the effect of a sledgehammer across Bonez’s shoulder!

C.P: Fuck…..fuck this! Someone, come help Bonez!

Mr. E bends over, gripping Schmitt’s head between his fingers like a ripe melon. Bonez is now brought to his feet with his legs in a noticeable wobbly nature. With nowhere to go, Bonez is met by a series of closes fists from Mr. E, who holds Bonez up to give him more punishment. After the series of blows, Mr. E turns Bonez around, still gripping his cranium tightly. Mr. E groans loudly, as he gains speed toward the ropes, pulling Bonez along with him. Jestina rolls under the bottom rope, screaming directly at Mr. E, instructing him in his actions. The howls of Jestina are answered, as Mr. E wings Bonez over to the top rope! Bonez is flung over the top rope, taking a stiff fall across the apron, and finally dropping to the floor in a broken and beaten heap. The camera view switches back to the ring: G-Man shakes his head side to side, in order to get the cobwebs loose, as he tries to gain some sense back into his head – on his hands and knees. Jestina rushes over to him, welcoming her presence among G-Man by winding her leg back and taking a full swing foward! The tip of her foot slams across G-Man’s ribcage, forcing him drop his head down into the palm’s of his hands. From behind, Jestina grabs G-Man’s head and lifts it up, raking her fingernails across the sides of G-Man’s face! The wince on G-Man’s face increases, as Jestina laughs wickedly. Her laughing ceases, but a smile still remains, as she steps a few feet away from G-Man. Jestina’s arm flings outward, her index finger curves outward at G-Man. A cackle escapes her vocal chords, before she emits orders for Mr. E to clear the ring of his presence. Without any hesitation, Mr. E lurks over G-Man, pulling him up to his feet. G-Man dives forward, hitting a shoulder to Mr. E’s midsection, which only incites a massive elbow blow to the back of his head from Mr. E. G-Man tries to get away from the big man, but the blow has rendered him into a blurred state of mind. Mr. E reaches out with both hands, grabbing G-Man by the head and the back of his wrestling gear. Jestina yells with approval, as Mr. E takes a few steps forward, lobbing G-Man through the middle rope to the outside. Jestina approaches Mr. E, standing at his side, slapping him on the back with a wicked smile still visible.

T.L: That man…no, that monster, Mr. E, just demolished Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt and G-Man! But, why?

C.P: Fuck, it’s not that fucking psychological, Tony. Those two are saying “Hey fuckers, we don’t care who the fuck you are! We are going to dismember you and toss you to the side, because you are in our way.”, with their actions of course.

T.L: Wow, that actually makes sense, Cody! I’m proud of you! But, why would they just come out here now and do this?

C.P: Mr. E, that big mother fucker, put out a challenge to Clarkson. He’s said that he’s back and he’s ready to take Clarkson’s fuckin’ belt! It doesn’t matter who you are or who you’re fucking associated with.

T.L: We still haven’t heard from Clarkson, since Maddog took a shot at Bonez! Well, I can’t actually say that, because of his conversation with Jeremy Britt just a day ago. Some say that Clarkson and Denison have been out, contemplating the situation. That seems to be the reason behind them not being around as of late.

C.P: Denison is nursing his injured leg, yet, bitch. It’s called re-habilitation! Anyway, that big mother fucker and that homicidal bitch are still in the ring…what the fuck?!

“The Empire Strikes First” by the punk legends, Bad Religion strikes up over the speakers that are surrounding the arena. Without any hesitation, President Maddog bursts through the curtain with a microphone in hand, glaring at the ring. He abruptly stops, throwing the microphone up to his mouth, the veins pulse out of his hand with apparent anger.

Maddog: Ya’ don’t say, look what the fuckin’ dog dragged in! First of fucking all, welcome fucking back! You are sure as fuck making my job a tad bit easier…Go ahead, bludgeon those two some more. You won’t be stepping on my toes in any form. Bonez, hell, you can have him…G-Man? Shatter his spine for all I care, man. Hold on just a second here, I seem to be getting on the wrong track here. Allow me to get a little closer, so I can formally address both of you…I’m sure you won’t mind…

Inside the ring, Mr. E crosses his arms over his chest with Jestina standing nearby, both looking on at the approaching President Maddog. Maddog exchanges a few vulgar comments with fans, as he passes them on his way to the ring. Within a few seconds, Maddog has made his way up the steps and onto the apron. Slowly, he walks along the apron and stops approximately in the middle of the apron. Maddog comes through the middle rope, microphone in hand. A slight smirk crosses his face, as he circles around the giant known as Mr. E and his acquaintance, Jestina. Standing a small distance in front and to the side of Mr. E, Jestina glares at the president of UWWF: Liberation. Keeping a safe distance, Maddog points at Jestina’s painted face, chuckling slightly.

Maddog: Aww, why the long face? What happened to you, sweetheart? [Turning his head to look to the crowd] Looks to me like somebody got a little too friendly with a cinder block…

Maddog laughs to himself, looking to the crowd for some acceptance – the fans are now staring at the massive finalist from the Ultimate Hardcore Cup, Mr. E. Maddog directs his head, tilting it to the side slightly, following the fan’s line of vision. Maddog’s eyes dart up at Mr. E, as a smile crosses over Maddog’s face.

Maddog: Oh, you’re all just too damn enthralled by that mass of a man standing right over here, huh? Well, as you all glare up at that big, retarded buffoon, I’ll say what I originally came out here to fucking say. I’ll try to make this very fucking simple for you and your little bitch, so you won’t get too confused. Alright?

The Mr. E stands in the same position, without any jolt or slight movement. It’s obvious that there would be no expression behind the mask that is dawned over his face. Jestina props her arms over her chest, as Maddog opens his mouth again.

Maddog: Listen and listen real damn good, both of you. Sure, you can come out here and annihilate every fucking thing that may step into your path, that’s fine and fucking dandy with me. Hell, I’d consider it more of a road than a path, just look at this hulking freak, fuck…Anyway, if you think for one fucking second that you’re going to dethrone the Ultimate Heavyweight champion, Jeremy “Repent” Clarkson, you’re more delusional than I had imagined. Let’s flash back to a little over a year ago, the Ultimate Hardcore Cup. The finals to be exact, okay, you still with me?

Maddog nods at Mr. E in an antagonizing fashion, though Mr. E shows no reaction to Maddog’s failed taunts.

Maddog: Ok, good. Now, you autistic mother fucker, think back to the final moments of that contest. Think about the very moment that Clarkson drilled your fucking skull across those light tubes and buried your ass inside that ring for the fucking three count. Just remember that, because…sometimes the past comes back to haunt various people..[cough]..

From the cough, Maddog points in Mr. E’s direction mouthing the word, “you”.

Maddog: You know the truth and I sure has hell know the truth, the truth that you try to hide from…the very reason that you wear that little mask of yours, Mr. E.

Maddog moves the microphone away from his mouth, pointing it in the direction of Jestina. He chuckles a bit, bobbing the microphone up and down in unison of his brief stints of laughing.

Maddog: Don’t think I forgot about you, my dear. I know of your past as well, that little fable of a tale that you call a life. It strikes me funny…you two…two legally insane martyrs, standing right here, right in front of me…what a privilege. Why do I use the mention of the word, martyr? Well, I’ll tell you exactly why. Take a good look at these two mother fuckers right here, two prime fucking examples of a tragedy waiting to happen. Two mother fuckers, who think they are up to par, attempting to dethrone a member of the Apocalypse. In the aftermath of the Apocalypse, honey, you’ll be wishing that those wrists of yours hadn’t been bound back together with stitches. Mr. E, when Clarkson returns to this fucking ring, you’ll hear his exact words on this little matter. I’m just the messenger, bringing to you a fair warning on my own behalf. Mr. E, if you do happen to meet Clarkson inside that ring again, you’ll be wishing…wishing that your deadbeat father would have fucking beat you to death, before he left you on the street to die. If you think this mother fucker is disfigured now, just wait…Clarkson will bring an entirely new fucking meaning to it!

Jestina turns her head toward Mr. E, talking in such a tone that only he could hear. Maddog steps forward, waving his index finger from left to right.

Maddog: Secrets, secrets…what else do you all have to hide?

Jestina doesn’t bother to even look at Maddog, which upsets him slightly.

Maddog: Listen, bitch! I’m not out here to listen to myself talk! I’m giving you both fair fucking warning! If you so much as dare to fuck with the Apocalypse…the Apocalypse will fucking eat you alive!

Jestina shouts loudly in Mr. E’s ear, which is quite a motivation for the big man. Lunging forward, Mr. E grabs Maddog by the throat with a harsh grip. Spit shoots from Maddog’s mouth, as he yells in a choked tone, ”Fuck you! Let me go!” The grip seems to get tighter after Maddog’s outburst of rage. Jestina laughs loudly, stopping only to order Mr. E to remove Maddog from that very ring. Clarkson jumps from his seat, glaring at the ring while Mr. E uses his brute strength, seemingly not human or far superior than a normal man’s, lifting Maddog off his feet by his throat. Maddog kicks his legs wildly, but Mr. E continues to raise him into the air while he walks toward the ropes. Maddog grabs onto Mr. E’s arm with both hands to help comfort the grip around his throat, not helping in the slightest. Mr. E nears the ropes, darting his eyes to an object near the apron. Mr. E dangles Maddog by the ropes, placing his hand on Maddog’s back to bring him higher into the air! Jestina cackles again, as she screams, “DO IT!” Hearing those words, Mr. E uses his brute-like strength to force Maddog up and over the top rope! Releasing his grip around Maddog’s throat, he sends Maddog toward a table that is sitting in wait near the apron with a force-fed release choke-slam! Maddog’s body cuts through the air, bringing him down across the table top with such force that the damn table explodes into hundreds of pieces upon his impact with it! Laying on the cold, hard concrete floor, Maddog doesn’t seem to be moving at all!

T.L: OH MY LORD!

C.P: Fuck that! That fucking freak is going to get what he fucking deserves, sooner or fuckin’ later! The Apocalypse of Wrestling won’t take what just happened lightly, mother fuckers! Payback! Payback will come from the Apocalypse of Wrestling’s bare fucking hands!

Mr. E turns his head and looks down over the ropes at the fallen president, as Jestina’s laugh can be heard in the background. From the floor, the camera zooms in on the front of Mr. E’s mask, catching a glimpse of his cold, emotionless eyes. Mr. E’s head turns, as his eyes lock onto Clarkson in the crowd. Clarkson showing no emotion to the actions, turns and parts his way through the crowd, leaving the camera’s view.

T.L: We’ll see you all next week, folks!

C.P: Fuck, we are out of time! Just to let you all know, Mr. E has just signed his own fuckin’ death warrant!

T.L: [shrugs] Good night, everyone!